"Why, Sophia, you have no need to feel hard done by-you know you may have any husband you wished if you would only put your mind to it," he said. He meant to be reassuring, but I did not miss the shadow that passed across her face then, as if his words caused her some secret pain.

I had no chance to speculate further, however, as at that moment there was a great thundering of footsteps on the flagstones outside and the door to the porter's lodge crashed open with such force that it hit the wall behind and juddered so hard I feared it might splinter. In the doorway stood Walter Slythurst, shaking like an aspen leaf, his face so deathly white and his eyes protruding with such terror that you would have thought someone had a knife at his back. He looked thoroughly drenched and dishevelled, and was wearing a thick cloak and riding boots all spattered with mud. I remembered that he had been away overnight and wondered if he had been attacked on the road.

"Fetch-" He choked, and the effort of speech made the veins in his neck stand out like knotted cords under the sallow skin. "Fetch the rector. The strong room-he must see this-horror-" Suddenly he leaned over and vomited on the stone floor, one hand grasping the wall to keep himself upright.

Cobbett and I exchanged a glance, then the old porter began ponderously to heave himself out of the chair. I stepped forward; it was clear that the situation required more urgency than Cobbett could give it.

"I will go for the rector," I said, "but what should I tell him has happened?"

Slythurst shook his head frantically, his lips pressed into a white line as if he feared his stomach might rise again. He jerked his head toward Sophia.

"A monstrous crime-one I cannot speak of before a lady. Rector Underhill must see-" He broke off again, his breath suddenly coming in jagged gasps as his knees buckled beneath him and he began shivering wildly as if it were the depths of winter. I had seen these effects of a severe shock before, and knew he must be calmed down.

"Sit him down, get him a strong drink," I said to Cobbett. "I'll find the rector."

"I can go for him if you like, he is at work in his study this morning," Sophia offered, rising quickly to her feet; as she stood, she clapped a hand to her brow and stumbled just as she had before. I caught her arm and she clutched my shoulder gratefully, then quickly withdrew her hand as a glance briefly passed between us acknowledging our moment of intimacy the night before. She leaned against the wall, but her face had turned almost as pale as Slythurst's. The rank stench of his vomit was rising in the small room, and, perhaps prompted by the smell, Sophia tried to reach the door, but had only partly opened it before she too leaned over and vomited in the doorway.

Cobbett rolled his eyes mildly, as if this were all part of the job.

"Will you take your turn too, Doctor Bruno, before I go for a pail of water?" he said wearily.

In truth, I could feel my own stomach rising with the smell, and I was glad to get out.

"Do not move-I will be back with the rector in a moment," I said, from the doorway.

"No one must go near the tower," Slythurst croaked. His violent shaking was beginning to subside; Cobbett had produced one of his bottles of ale and poured the bursar a good measure in one of his wooden cups.

My frantic hammering on the rector's door brought Adam the old servant running to open it; when he saw it was me, his face twisted into a sneer of open dislike.

"Back again, Doctor Bruno?"

"I need to see the rector urgently," I panted, ignoring his tone.

"Rector Underhill cannot see you this morning, he is extremely busy. And the ladies are out," he added, with an emphasis that implied he knew just what I was after.

"Christ's blood, man, did you not hear me? The matter is urgent-I will fetch him myself if I must." I shouldered my way past him through the dining room and thumped on the door of the study.

"What is the meaning of this?" the rector blustered, throwing it open. "Doctor Bruno?"

"He forced his way in, sir," Adam whined, waving his hands ineffectually behind me.

"You must come immediately," I said. "Master Slythurst has discovered something in the strong room-he called it a monstrous crime. He was too much affected by what he saw-I was sent to bring you as a matter of urgency."

The rector's eyes widened in fear and his jowls trembled. "A theft, you mean?"

"I don't think so," I said, quietly. "A theft does not generally make a grown man heave up his breakfast. I guess Slythurst has seen something more…disturbing to make his stomach turn like that."

The rector stared at me. "Not another-?"

"We will not know, sir, until you come to investigate."

Underhill nodded mutely, then gestured for me to lead the way.

When we reached the west range, Slythurst was already waiting by the door to the subrector's staircase; some of the colour seemed to have returned to his cheeks but he had not yet regained his composure.

"You must steel yourself, Rector," he said, his voice still hoarse. "I returned this morning from my business in Buckinghamshire-I left at first light and had only just now returned to college. I thought to take the revenues I had brought from our estates straight up to the strong room before I changed. I knocked for James but there was no reply, so I went to Cobbett for the spare key to his room. The inner door to the strong room was locked, as usual, but when I opened it, I found-" His eyes bulged again and he shook his head, his teeth firmly clenched.

"Found what?" the rector asked, as if he did not want to be told the answer.

Slythurst only shook his head and pointed to the stairwell. The rector turned to me awkwardly.

"Doctor Bruno, perhaps you would-? You have shown us a clear head in such situations before."

I nodded. The rector was a coward at heart, comfortable ruling his little domain of books, where men snipe at their enemies with rhetoric, but out of his depth when the violence became real. He clearly feared what he was about to witness; suddenly the funny little Italian was not so laughable, and he wanted me at his side. Slythurst gave me a sideways glance through narrowed eyes; it seemed that despite his shock, he had not forgotten his dislike of me and would have preferred me not to be included, but he was in no state to argue with the rector.

The stairs creaked unexpectedly under my feet, making the rector jump. Though there was little light in the stairwell, I could make out marks on the threshold of Doctor Coverdale's room as I entered the door Slythurst had left open. Holding a hand out behind me, I bent to take a closer look and saw that the stains were smudged footprints leading out of the tower room. I touched a finger to one of the marks and it came away with a sticky, rust-coloured coating which, when I sniffed it, could only be blood, though it was not fresh. I turned to look at my companions with a grim expression; below me, the rector's round white face, pale as the moon in the shadowy stairwell, flinched but nodded me onward.

The little door at the back of the tower room was also swinging open; inside it, I found a narrow spiral staircase barely wide enough for a man to pass, curving to the top of the tower. Halfway up there was a small arched doorway, whose studded oak door had been left ajar by Slythurst in his flight from the sight within. The smell of death was unmistakable now, stinging my nostrils as I approached the threshold; the rector gave a little cry of fright as he cowered behind me. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and stepped into the college strong room. Immediately I gagged and cried out at what I saw, and felt the rector's hand grasp at the back of my jerkin as he jostled to see through the doorway. Here, then, was the answer to the mystery of what had happened to Doctor James Coverdale.